The Weight of Your Sorrow
by ERgirl
Summary: A story of Abby and Susan's friendship through a very difficult time...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing sobs**

**Author's note: Before you start reading, I really must say I'm sorry about what happens in my story. It was one of those moments when something comes to your head and you write it down...and then someone tells you you should continue it!!! So I did (And i know some people may hate me for it (Ella certainly does!) so sorry to those people). And thank you to Kenz and Ella for reading over and telling me what needed changing D Please Review and let me know what you think!!!**

Abby's POV

And I was spinning, spinning out of control; like I couldn't take it anymore, like I couldn't cope. I felt like everything I had ever known…loved… was gone, taken away from me just like that. In one phone call my life had changed.

'We regret to inform you…' the man had said, and after that it was just a blur. Nothing good ever came after those 5 words… I collapsed onto the sofa, tears streaming down my face and soaking the cushion.

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Walking down the centre of the church towards the pulpit, Susan and Neela on either side of me 'just in case', it all came flooding back. I sat down in the pew at the front and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the mutterings of everyone behind me, their grief and their sympathy just making it all worse. The memories of last time I'd been to church flashed through my mind, taunting me…

"_I now pronounce you man and wife" said the vicar as the congregation applauded. Luka lifted my veil and leant down to kiss me gently. I melted in his arms, knowing that nothing could take the smile off my face today. It was the perfect ceremony, simple maybe, but exactly what we'd wanted. _

_Turning away from the altar, we walked back up the aisle and into the church grounds, where Susan met us with a hug. _

"_You look beautiful" she gushed, and I felt myself blushing. What more could I ask for? I had just married the man of my dreams and here I was, surrounded by my friends and family._

Everyone is here now too; Maggie is sat behind me sobbing loudly, with Eric beside her, probably trying to provide some sort of comfort. At least they're both on their meds, although even if they weren't, I doubt they could make this day any worse. Because everyone isn't here, the person who was my life, my everything, is lying there at the front of the church, and he isn't coming back. At that thought I break down again, sobbing silently, painfully aware of Susan's hand gripping my own and unsure whether it's comforting or not. She's my best friend, the best friend I've ever had and I know she'll be here for me, no matter what. But this feels different, like even her friendship can't get me through today.

As I adjust my scarf slightly and shift a little in my seat, she notices my movement and squeezes my hand tighter, my sobs catch in my throat but I continue to look straight ahead as the vicar stands to begin the service. He's the vicar who did our wedding, probably about 60 now but he looks the same, other than his expression of course. His eyes are sad and his voice sombre as he begins. I look at my shoes- elegant, black, low heel, thin strap – a pair of shoes I'm sure I'll never forget. I hear the service pass, I hear Luka's father stand up and talk about his son, about his childhood. I hear everyone singing, the vicar's prayer, and Kerry reading something from the bible. Then I feel Susan's hand on one arm and Neela's on the other. There are no tears now, I stand up and walk slowly to the front of the church, praying for just a moment that it won't be him, that there will have been some mistake, but I know I'm just lying to myself. I rest one hand on the edge of the coffin and stroke his cheek gently with my other, moving it to brush his hair from his face. I stand back as they lower the top of the coffin, catching the last glimpse of my husband.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing sad face**

**Authors note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed my first chapter, I really appreciate it and I'm glad you liked it! I just thought I should point out that Joe doesn't exist in this story...I decided i couldn't do that... I don't think Chuck and Cosmo are around either. I hope you like the new chapter, please leave me a review and tell me what you think. **

Abby's POV

As the organ starts playing, the vicar leads the procession towards the big doors at the back of the church, into the graveyard. There won't be any photos this time, nothing to mark the 'big day', because it's the sort of day that no-one wants to remember.

"_Smile" said the photographer lifting his camera once more and pointing it towards us. We'd already taken lots of photos: everyone together, me and my family, his family, the bridesmaids, grooms men and even the ER staff. Now it was just me and Luka. He put his arms around me and we smiled at the camera._

It had turned out to be the perfect photo, the one we'd framed and put on the ledge above the fire. It's the photo that is now sat next to my bed, so that it's the last thing I see before I go to sleep and the first thing I see when I wake up.

Following Maggie and Eric, I duck my head and step into the car, Susan slipping in behind me. I lean my forehead against the window as we pull out of the churchyard, staring into the distance and barely noticing the places we pass. The only things that catch my eye are the people turning their heads to stare at us. I've always wondered why funeral cars are so…obvious. It's like they're designed so that everyone can feel sorry for you, glance through the tinted windows and wonder who it is in the car. You can't say you haven't done it yourself, looked around when a funeral car passed; but until you're the one sitting in that car, you don't realise how much the simple turn of a few heads can get to you. I shake that thought away, trying to clear my head of, well, everything, as we pull up in front of the hotel where we're holding the reception. Do you even call it a reception, or is that just for weddings?

_Everyone cheered as we cut the cake. It was an impressive cake. Three layers high, with white icing, pink roses, and a little model of me and Luka stood on the top. I'll admit that it's not the cake I would have chosen myself, but it's definitely beautiful. Everybody who hadn't filled up on the buffet earlier tucked into a slice, before gathering around the dance floor in anticipation. _

_As the band struck up the music for our first dance, the butterflies in my stomach returned. I don't know why I was so nervous, I mean it was only a dance – we'd already gotten married, and that was supposed to be the hard part. I think it was the knowledge that everyone was watching us, but as soon as he took me in his arms and we started swaying gently to the music, all my thoughts vanished. He stared into my eyes and whispered the lyrics in my ear. _

"_There's no love - like your love  
And no other - could give more love  
There's nowhere - unless you're there  
All the time - all the way..."_

_We'd debated whether it was too obvious a song to choose, but in the end we'd decided that it summed us up so completely, and we loved it. As the music faded, our family and friends cheered once again. Luka kissed me softly as other couples moved on the dance floor and the band continued playing._

_The reception got livelier as people got more and more drunk. I laughed as Maggie and Luka's father danced together; she was happier than I'd seen her in ages and for once in my life I was glad she was here for me._

I greet everyone as they come in. Perfectly hospitable, yet trying to avoid looking into their eyes as they tell me again how 'terribly sorry' they are for my loss. I know they are being kind, that they really are sincere, but I hate this more and more as the minutes drag by. I don't understand the need for a reception; surely people would prefer to mourn on their own, in private. It's not like after a wedding when you actually have something to celebrate, it's more like an excuse to get people together to eat mini triangular sandwiches and catch up with relatives they haven't seen in years.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I have nothing...nothing to disclaim...just...nothing!**

**Author's note: Thank you to people who reviewed...glad you are liking it! Thank you to Ella (and Kenzie if she read this bit already??? I forget) for telling me what needed to change, and what didn't. Hope you like this chapter...please review DD**

Abby's POV 

I take a deep breath and glance across at Luka's father, realising that today must be horrific for him too- a father shouldn't have to bury his son. Needing to get away, if only for a little while, I slip out through the side door and wander the hallway until I reach the hotel kitchens. Suddenly realising just how hungry I am, I open the refrigerator and look inside. As I lean in to pick up a canapé, a bottle catches my eye and without thinking, I reach in and grab it. Leaving the kitchen the way I came in, I head for the cupboard I noticed on my way and duck inside, away from anyone who might be looking for me.

As I unscrew the lid and lift the bottle to my lips, Luka's face drifts into my mind; his sad eyes begging me not to do it, even though he's not here to stop me anymore. He's not here to stop me - at the time I need stopping the most. I throw the bottle at the cupboard wall and watch the liquid trickling into a puddle on the floor before collapsing beside it, my body once again racked with sobs. Because he's the one who keeps me strong. When he was around I didn't feel the need to drink, the urge to 'drown my sorrows' as they say. Curling up in his arms took away the pain just as quickly as the alcohol could, and he always made it seem better, rather than just numbing the pain until I sobered up.

_I was sat at the table when he came in, a perfectly polished wine glass in front of me, half filled with the deep red liquid, yet untouched. The voices in my head overwhelmed any rational thought, encouraging me to take that first sip but somehow holding my hand back at the same time. My stare never wavered as he hung up his coat and sat opposite me at the table, gently taking my hand in his. _

"_Talk to me?" he said quietly._

_I shook my head, tears forming once more. There wasn't anything to talk about, nothing new anyway; I was just the same old messed up woman with a couple more problems, namely Maggie. _

_He did nothing to remove the temptation, simply sat there holding my hands until my tears had subsided. Then he spoke up again:_

"_Talk to me Abby, let me in, I can't promise to make everything better, but I guarantee that I'm a better comfort than the wine." _

"_She did it again," I mumbled, and once I'd started talking it all came out, all my problems laid out on the table in front of me. And he hadn't pitied me for being the broken one; he'd sat at my side as we talked and helped me pick up the pieces and put them back together one by one. Best of all was waking up in his arms next morning without the throbbing head, and with the realisation that Luka was a better solution than alcohol._

I hear the footsteps of someone approaching but I don't have the control to stop crying. When I don't respond to the knock on the door, Susan sticks her head around it and looks in, her expression doing little to disguise how worried she is. Taking one look at my face, she obviously decides that words will be of no comfort at this point, and slumps down beside me. Pulling my head into her arms, she strokes my hair gently, and it surprises me when I feel her hot tears on my shoulder. It's the first time I've seen her cry today; she's been the person who kept me together, but I guess it's taken all her strength to stay composed.

_  
_We sit in silence for a while, the reception forgotten. Eventually, once my tears have subsided and my body has stopped shaking, she sits me up and rummages around in her handbag, handing me a tissue. I scrub at my eyes in an attempt to hide that I've been crying, despite the fact that I'm sure my face is red and blotchy. Susan pulls my hand away from my face.

"Let's get you home," she says softly, before helping me up. Choosing to ignore the broken glass and the liquid on the floor, which she hasn't even mentioned yet, we leave 'my' cupboard, and she leads me back towards the hotel's function room.

I attempt to be as inconspicuous as possible as I say goodbye to Luka's father. He hugs me gently and whispers in my ear to "be strong". I gulp and return his gesture.

"You too" I mumble, hoping he heard me. I glance around, looking for Susan and spot her letting Eric and Maggie know that she is taking me home. She smiles at them once more and then walks back towards me before we finally leave the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: This is the last complete chapter I have at the moment...I have bits and pieces of a few more chapers which are being worked on but I am so busy at the moment with work and revision and have so little free time to write... so I am sorry for my slowness... Thank you to everyone who has reviewed!!! Hope you enjoy this next chapter...**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing... except my shiny new hairdryer (which doesn't actually feature in the story so can be seen as irrelevant!)**

Susan's POV

She looks drained as I walk her from the taxi up the steps to her apartment. She unlocks the door and opens it slowly, almost reluctantly. Hanging her coat up on the hook in the cupboard and replacing her keys in her purse, she looks over at me, a desperate look in her eyes.

"Please don't go," she whispers, "I can't bear to be here alone tonight."

I nod my head and drop my own purse on the sideboard. "Don't worry," I reply, "I'm not going anywhere."

As I glance around, I realise how painful it must be for her to return home alone each day, to an apartment that is so filled with memories, and yet so unbearably empty.

She's silent now, staring into the distance with a blank expression on her face, waiting for me to make the next move. She nods slightly when I offer her a coffee, and turns- following me to the kitchen, watching closely as I put on the kettle and get out the mugs.

"I didn't do it Susan" she says slowly, "I didn't drink any – I wanted to, but I couldn't."

I eventually realise that she's referring to the broken bottle in the cupboard, trying to explain, even justify herself to me. I keep my back turned, spooning coffee grounds into the mugs as I listen – giving her time to get things off her mind, more for her own sake than mine.

Taking a decisive step, she opens the fridge door and pulls the beer bottles from the top shelf. Rummaging in the cutlery draw for a bottle opener she opens each one carefully, pouring out its contents in the sink, and watching as it swirls down the plughole. Luka rarely drank around Abby, but they always had a few bottles in the fridge in case of an impromptu 'boy's night'.

_The phone rang loudly and I jumped up from my spot on the couch to try and find it amongst the clutter. Unearthing it from behind a cushion I pressed the answer button and sat back down._

"_Susan speaking" I said, listening to Abby's voice on the other end of the phone and laughing at her frustration._

"_Come over here for the night" I suggested, "We can chill out with a film and some Ben and Jerry's while your new hubby and his friends watch the baseball."_

_After that we had girlie sleepovers regularly. Neither of us particularly liked the baseball, and even less so when the guys were drinking beer and cheering on their respective teams. It was safer to stay out the way; it was no fun for Abby to be the only sober one in her apartment anyway._

I can see the determination in her eyes now, the determination not to sink anymore; to remove the temptation before it drags her down further.

A while later as we sit on the couch sipping coffee, I try to work out what to say; whether she will want to talk about him, or about something else to take her mind away from it all for a while.

"Everyone's missed you at work," I blurt out, regretting it immediately, and then wondering if it was such a bad thing to say after all, maybe it's good to let her know how much everyone cares for her.

"I'll be back tomorrow," she says dully, "back to saving lives," she adds with a hint of sarcasm, a tone I have learnt to pick up over our years of friendship, yet one that would sound perfectly normal to anyone else.

I look at her, worried that she is thinking of coming back to work so soon, that it will be too much for her to take. She glances at me briefly and looks away, reluctant to make eye contact.

"We do it every day Susan. We watch people pass away because there's nothing we can do to save them. And we watch people's relatives mourn for them, see their devastation as they realise that their lives have suddenly been torn apart." She pauses, and breathes in slowly, "and then we go home to our family or friends…and sometimes we cry, sometimes we talk about it… but then we forget, because if we didn't then it would overwhelm us, and we couldn't do our jobs…"

Her voice peters out and I feel the need to finish her sentence, so I carry on, "and we have to keep doing what we do because so many people need us. For everyone we can't save, there are so many more that we do, and they can leave the hospital and carry on with their lives. And no, we aren't perfect, sometimes there is nothing we _can_ do, but we try our best and gradually learn to cope with the consequences."

"But we couldn't save him," she says, a single tear trickling down her face, before she brushes it away, "I couldn't save him."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I haven't written anything in aaaaages...but exams are over now and I thought that maybe it was time to write a bit more of my story... I found some stuff I wrote before and have a new chapter. So anyone who reads... I hopee will enjoy. Reviews are obviously always REALLY appreciated. xxx**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing...**

Susan's POV

As I pull the curtains closed, I see the sun setting on the horizon, blocking the moon and casting a shadow over the city. She doesn't make it to bed, yet falls asleep easily on the couch – the immense strain of the day finally taking its toll on her.

I hear the rain start, tapping gently on the windows as it falls. I take a blanket from the cupboard and cover her sleeping frame, careful not to wake her. I watch her for a moment, noticing the change; the sadness of her expression even as she sleeps, and the dark rings under her eyes standing out on her pale face.

I settle down in the chair next to her, silent tears soaking the sleeve of my top, like the rain outside slowly drenching the Chicago streets. I feel so helpless, so out of my depth. I can't imagine how she feels, and I can't think of what to say to make anything any better.

I drift in and out of sleep, the smallest sound or movement waking me from my feverish dreams and pulling me back to reality. I debate which scares me more; the nightmares where everything I fear happens, or life; where I realise that some of it already has.

As morning approaches I give up on the notion of sleep and rise from the chair, slipping into the bathroom to freshen up. I fill up the basin and splash the cool water over my face, drying it with one of Abby's towels before running my fingers through my hair in attempt to make it more presentable.

Leaving the bathroom I consider popping home for a change of clothes, but reject the idea when I think of Abby waking up alone again. Instead I fill the kettle, as quietly as possible and settle back down in the chair a few minutes later, cradling a cup of coffee in my hands, and waiting for it to cool enough to be drinkable, cool enough to satisfy my desperate need for caffeine. I take my first sip too soon, and feel it burning the inside of my mouth. The scalding feeling is sharp at first, but soon fades to a dull ache and I wonder how long it will take Abby's pain to become bearable; to become that feeling you know is there but doesn't stop you taking the next mouthful of coffee. I shake my head, too tired to think this deeply. Moving my gaze across to look at Abby, i see her beginning to stir, slowly opening her eyes and glancing at me briefly before she gathers the blanket around her, mutters a soft 'morning' and disappears into the bathroom.

Abby's POV

Facing Susan across the table, I try to argue my case. She looks worried once again at my determination to return to work so soon, but I won't let her stop me. I feel like it's the only thing I can do. If there was nothing I could do to save him, then at least I can try to help someone else – stop someone's family having to go through what I am. Save the world from just a little bit of that grief.

"If you won't take me then I'll just drive myself," I threaten, knowing she'll back down at that thought. I want to go back…but not on my own. I know somehow that I will need her to be there for me, as selfish as it sounds.

I walk towards the doors an hour later with some trepidation, but I'll be damned if I let it show. I'm Abby Lockhart, the strong one, the one who can get through anything – well that's what they all think, what I've let them believe.

To them I'm not the woman who turned to alcohol to ease the pain of a troubled childhood, or the woman who breaks down at the thought of the child whose life she denied because she couldn't make her marriage work. I'm the reliable one who never misses a shift, never lets her personal life get in the way of work.

It must come as a shock to them when I run from the first patient through the doors – tall and dark haired, yelling out in pain as he's pushed into a trauma room.

"I've got this one," says Susan, concern filling her eyes once again, "Can you take the girl Abby?"

I nod and follow the second gurney through into trauma 2, shouting orders to the nurses, and to Ray who followed me in. I can't let this girl die.

* * *

I flash a fake smile at the man behind the counter as I hand over the money and slip the packet into my bag, leaving the drug store and walking back across the street and through the doors of the ER. Heading for the staff lounge and sitting down on one of the sofas, my hands come to my head and massage my temples, cursing the headache that has plagued me all morning. Twisting the top off a bottle of water, I pop two painkillers from the foil packet and swallow them quickly, placing the box back into my locker and slamming it shut. I lean up against the door and try to prepare myself for what will await me outside the room.

I nod to Ray as I walk past into the young girl's room. We had worked on her for over an hour and now, though her condition was still serious, she was stable. Susan joined me by her bedside and spoke quietly.

"Her Dad's out of surgery, he's going to be fine. He's asking for her though"


End file.
